


Changed Fates

by RogueKraytDragon



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Comfort, Epilogue, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Post-Game(s), Shipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8833645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueKraytDragon/pseuds/RogueKraytDragon
Summary: After the war, the former Shepherds begin to build their own lives. Despite a familiar absence, adventures abound for the former soldiers of Ylisse...





	1. Royal Duties

_“After Grima's defeat, Chrom was officially welcomed as Ylisse's new exalt. Queen Olivia gave him a much-needed shoulder to lean on as she traveled the land, dancing and mending the scars of war…”_

* * *

 

In the palace of Ylisstol, everything was quiet. If one were to step outside into the bustling city, the pleasant ambiance of citizens at the market would soothe the ears. But, on this particular day, the great palace itself remained empty.

This was strange occurrence – almost anyone could approach the front gates seeking audience and would likely be granted such. Often though, the exalt himself was not there. He and his queen would visit the towns and villages of Ylisse, where some were rebuilding land razed by the Risen and renewing their lives. Despite the advice of his advisors, they often travelled alone, choosing to walk freely among citizens rather than surrounded by an armed escort. There had been a few incidents, as brigands and bandits still roamed Ylisse, but the exalt insisted on making each of these visits himself. However, even as the people needed their exalt’s presence, they also needed his leadership, and thus he returned to the capitol when it was required of him.

Chrom stepped into the palace’s entrance hall. The thud of the towering doors broke the silence, and, for a second, he gazed past the regal maroon carpet towards the end of the hall, where the simple, unadorned throne sat on a pedestal. Ever uneasy, Olivia peeked out from behind the doorway, only joining Chrom as soon as she was sure there was no one else present. Hand in hand, they walked down the hall slowly.

“It’s strange to be back here,” said Olivia softly. Her voice barely touched the silence of the palace.

“I know,” replied Chrom. “After all those places we visited…it feels…confining to return.” He sighed. “But it is our duty to Ylisse. I just wish someone else could handle these tedious diplomatic ventures.”

“I hope I can still help…” said Olivia. “My dancing cheered the townspeople, but I’ve never understood politics…”

Chrom could tell that she was using every ounce of her willpower to keep from speaking further about her lack of experience. Then he smiled fondly and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You are helping, Olivia,” he said reassuringly. “There’s no way I could do this without you. You always find a way to make me happy.”

Olivia blushed, but looked up at Chrom for several long seconds. Then she smiled. “I’m so glad to be here with you,” she said finally.

Chrom chuckled. “Even if we are managing these matters of state.”

* * *

 

Thus, Chrom sat in the exalt’s throne, and Olivia stood behind him in support. The hours dragged by. One particularly volatile argument arose between two angry village leaders. These two villages had been quite close geographically during the war, and as their people rebuilt, a plot of land remained in dispute, which both villages claimed.

“My grandfather distinctly remembers living on that land!” shouted the first leader, a short but loud man. “It is rightfully ours!”

“Not so fast,” countered the other leader, a woman with a surprisingly cool demeanor. “The burned building in the middle of that field used to house our crops before the war.”

“Come now,” said Chrom evenly. “Your two villages used to be very friendly with each other.”

As the bickering carried on, a resolution seemed far from achievable. “My lord exalt,” whispered one of Chrom’s counselors, “it appears that neither side can show proof to reinforce their claims…”

Tempers rose, and soon the quiet of the hall was shattered by competing voices. Then, a small voice somehow rose above the cacophony.

“E-excuse me, if I may suggest something…”

To everyone’s surprise and her own, it was Olivia that had spoken. The villagers’ argument had become so heated that their faces were almost close to touching, but they looked away from each other and towards Olivia, caught off guard.

“Perhaps your villages could work together to restore the land as a place for both villages… Then your ancestral homes and stores could be protected.”

Everyone looked thoughtful, considering the idea for a moment.

The first leader sighed heavily. “We must have become so caught up in our rights that we didn’t consider that possibility,” he said. “Would you agree to this?” he asked the other leader.

She nodded. “We will,” she replied. Turning to Olivia, she gave a short bow. “Thank you, my lady, for helping us see past our squabbling.”

* * *

 

While no other such matters required as much delicacy for the remainder of the day, Chrom granted audience to a great number of others and their concerns. By evening, Chrom was wearied. When everyone save Olivia had left, he remained seated. Exhausted, he leaned forward to let his forehead fall into his hands.

“It looks like negotiation still isn’t my strong suit,” he said.

With effort, he stood up. “I’ve never really liked this chair,” he said, looking at the throne. “It always seemed more fit for Emmeryn than it did for me.”

This time it was Olivia’s turn to offer a comforting hand to the shoulder. “What are you thinking about?” she asked softly.

Chrom raised his head from his hands to look back down the long palace hall, taking in its tranquility.

“We are all grateful for this era of peace, and the fate we averted for the future,” he said finally. “But I can’t help but think of everything we lost along the way. Rogue would tell me to keep going, no matter what.” He smiled. “Rogue would be right, of course. Even though we’ve challenged destiny and won, it still falls to us to ensure that what we fought for still stands.”

Chrom sighed.

“I know,” Olivia replied. “I miss him, too.”

“Our bonds are strong, and we have Rogue to thank.” Chrom’s eyebrows narrowed in determination. “And that’s why I know he’ll find his way back to us.”

“Say, Olivia,” he spoke suddenly. “I think I’ve we’ve spent enough time back here. Why don’t we see how our comrades are doing?”


	2. A Tasty Venture

_“Gaius never lost his sweet tooth, though he ultimately returned to less savory enterprises. Lissa always insisted on going along, and the two survived many a comically dire predicament together…”_

* * *

 

A cool, peaceful evening had enveloped the city. Systematically, as if like clockwork, citizens latched the shutters on their windows, snuffed out lamps and candles, and bade each other goodnight, falling into serene slumbers. Within one short hour, Ylisstol was asleep.

Of course, the odd noise sounded occasionally: the creak of a roof here and the rush of the breeze there…but among these there were the soft swish of a dark cloak and the barely audible pitter-patter of footsteps stealing silently along the cobblestone road. If one citizen had risen with a yawn and happened to open one of his securely fastened windows, he might have caught the slightest glimpse of something darting between shadows cast by the light of the moon…but such an occurrence was highly unlikely. Instead, the unconscious city folk snoozed entirely unaware of the furtive figure sneaking through the streets.

At last, the mysterious figure stopped. Darting this way and that, two eyes peered from underneath a dark hood at the shop window directly across the street. Placed neatly on wooden shelves just behind the store window were an array of cakes each one more enticing than the others beside it. The figure stared at them with longing. After checking left and right to make sure the coast was clear, the figure prepared to dash towards the shop-

Suddenly, the figure felt two small hands grab his shoulders, causing him to jump several inches high. His hood fell backward, revealing a bright wash of red hair.

“Gah!” exclaimed Gaius, trying to stifle his own voice. An amused giggle sounded behind him.

“Gotcha!” came a voice. “It’s only me, silly!”

Gaius turned around to see Lissa with a satisfied smile on her face, her blonde curls bouncing excitedly.

“Were you following me the whole way here?” he whispered in surprise.

“Don’t be so shocked,” retorted Lissa. “You’re teaching me everything you know, right? I can’t be expected not to pick up a few tricks from my own husband!”

Gaius’s initial startled expression soon transformed into a smug grin. “I should have known you’d want to come along, Princess,” he said. Scanning Lissa from head to toe, he saw that she was wearing a particularly bright dress, and reached into his sack, producing another dark cloak.

“Here, put this on,” he said, tossing it to her. “You stand out like a candied fig in a barrel of cabbages.” Quickly, Lissa wrapped the cloak around herself as Gaius stuck his head around the corner and looked around the street again.

“So here’s the deal,” explained Gaius. “I’ve walked past this shop a few times, and the other day I saw a real fancy looking guy strut right in and place an order for a cake. He said this cake had to be perfect, and if any topper was out of place he’d personally put the baker out of business.”

Gaius’s eyes narrowed. “Little does that sucker know that he’s not ever going to get his cake.” Gaius licked his lips. “I am.”

Lissa eyebrows furrowed as she put her hands on her hips. “What about the baker?” she asked. “We can’t just let that guy to that to him!”

Gaius shrugged. “You have your noble brother, right? Call in a few favors.”

Not about to be ignored, Lissa planted herself right in front of Gaius. “We’re not going anywhere until you think of something that keeps that baker in business, mister!”

Gaius looked at his wife. Though she was shorter than he was, her determination seemed to provide her with several more inches of height. Clearly, their heist would be going no further until he found a way to tie up the loose end.

“Ok, ok,” Gaius said finally, conceding. “Want to see what else is in this bag?”

Shuffling some more things around in his sack, he held it open and offered it to Lissa.

Lissa peered inside in wonderment. “Whoa…Gaius, where did you get these?”

“They’re mine,” he said “I’ve memorized them, so I guess I don’t need them anymore. Satisfied?”

“Aww!” said Lissa, wrapping her arms around him in a big hug. “You are sooooo sweet!”

“Alright, Princess,” he said, wriggling free. “C’mon, let’s do this.”

* * *

 

The pair made it to the back door of the shop without incident. When they reached the door, Gaius pulled out a lockpick from behind his teeth and set right to work on the door. Within seconds, the latch gave way, and with a tiny creak the door swung open. The only light in the small, one room shop came from the moonlight, bathing the delectable desserts in a soft glow.

“How do you know which cake it is?” asked Lissa, puzzled.

“Oh, trust me,” replied Gaius. “I know.”

Silently stalking towards the shelf, Gaius extended reached his hand out to grab the cake as Lissa watched nervously. Then, she noticed something on the floor. “Gaius!” she whispered urgently.

His head turned around, but his foot had already taken the next step. Gaius let out a yelp and was wrenched forward by his foot. When Lissa’s eyes adjusted, she could see Gaius hanging upside down, his foot caught in a taut rope hanging from the ceiling.

“Ack!” said Gaius. “I should have seen that. I guess that this baker was prepared for anything.” He looked a Lissa. “Mind cutting me down?”

For a few seconds, all Lissa could do was stare at him, swaying back and forth. Then, her mouth formed into a huge smile and, as desperately as she tried to hold it back, she burst out laughing.

“Hey!” said Gaius, “A little help here, please?”

Clutching her side, Lissa straightened back to a standing position, wiping tears from her face.

“Sorry!” she said, “but that was too funny!”

Grabbing Gaius’s knife from his belt, she got to work on the rope, and soon Gaius was free.

“That was something,” he said. “Doesn’t look like there are any more traps…”

Gaius carefully slid the most extravagant cake of the bunch onto a tray from his sack and placed a cover over it. Then, an orange glow appeared outside the shop window.

“Who’s there!” came a gruff shout.

“Guards!” whispered Lissa.

Gaius grinned. “Even more fun.”

Quickly looking around, Lissa spied a cupboard towards the back on the room. “In here!” she whispered, grabbing Gaius and tossing him in ahead of her. Lissa was barely able to squeeze herself inside and shut the door before the sounds of clinking armor paused. Light from the guards’ torches seeped through the crack between the cupboard doors. In the corner of her eye, Lissa could see two of the guards.

“I don’t know, sir,” said the closest guard, perplexed. “I could have sworn that I heard something around here.”

The other guard, obviously a superior, sighed. “I know that patrolling at night isn’t the most interesting task, but that doesn’t mean you can invent strange noises.”

“Sir!” came a shout closer to the cupboard. “Someone has been here!”

Lissa drew a deep breath and reached for Gaius’s hand in the darkness.

The superior guard that Lissa could see moved out of her line of sight. “Hmm,” said the guard. “Looks like they’ve already come and gone…but who would go to all this trouble to steal a few pastries?”

Lissa was forced to stifle a laugh, which prompted a “sshh” from Gaius.

“We can’t do anymore here, soldiers. Let’s move out!”

Gaius and Lissa waited until the sounds of armored boots faded into the distance. They stepped out of the cupboard.

“Close call,” said Gaius, still smiling and receiving a smile in return.

Taking Lissa by the hand, Gaius dashed out the door, tossing something onto the counter as they made their escape. Within seconds, Gaius and Lissa, running gleefully, had disappeared into the night.

* * *

The next morning, the baker walked into his shop, and was astonished to find that his trap had been sprung, but the culprit was nowhere to be found. Even more curious was that whoever had paid a midnight visit to his shop had also left something behind.

Puzzled, the baker opened the mysterious bag on the counter to find several tattered pieces of paper, each with lists of ingredients penned in a messy scrawl. At the bottom of the bag was a note.

_Hey there Shortcake,_

_Tell that goody two-shoes that if he has a problem with his cake, he can talk to me. Here’s a few recipes – make some good pastries. You might be seeing me sometime._

_Yours truly,_

_A fellow lover of sweets_


	3. Friend and Foe

_“Cynthia never gave up on becoming a hero and traveled the land in the name of justice. While she impacted the world of comedy more than the world of legend, people still loved her for trying…”_

* * *

 

Far to the southeast of Ylisse, nestled deep in a mountain valley, a little trading village bustled with life. A crossroads for the other villages in the region, the settlement was the gathering place for a grand host of characters. Fenced in by the mountains, the villagers had little contact with anyone from beyond the tall peaks, effectively isolated…and ripe for trouble.

On one particular day, an influx of local merchants swept into the village, sporting wares of all shapes and sizes. In anticipation of the market day, other townspeople had undertaken the trek to see the trading hub, eager to purchase rare goods. In the center of town, a stone promenade boasted kiosks and booths along either side, in which merchants handled exchanges and visitors haggled endlessly. The din of bartering was comforting to the inhabitants of the village, but, unbeknownst to the average bystander, a disturbance was brewing.

Soon, those on the edges of the crowd began to hear a steadily growing sound. The noise was a dull roar at first, almost like rolling thunder. The villagers paid it no heed. After all, the mountains made many sounds. As the sound rose in volume, however, one could almost make out its individual parts. It sounded…almost like the hooves of horses, galloping ever closer. Then, appearing from a valley between the peaks, a host of tiny figures approached, increasing in size as they closed the distance between their force and the village.

It was only then that the villagers took notice of the oncoming cavalry. One woman paused in the middle of completing a transaction, squinting into the distance. “Hmm,” she muttered. “That’s odd…”

Others turned their heads and saw the swiftly moving figures, and soon many beheld the spectacle with interest…

But, in an instant, that mild curiosity was replaced by cold terror – the riders had drawn close enough that the townspeople could see the telltale glint of steel weapons.

Trying to remain calm, some whispered urgently, while other, more easily startled villagers yelled in panic, but in vain. By the time the desperate word had circulated around the promenade, the enemy was already upon them, galloping into town before anyone had a chance to hide or run. In a matter of seconds, there were horsemen everywhere, and the ominous clop of hooves stifled the villagers’ cries. The woman who had first noticed the riders retreated to the middle of the cobblestone road, her back against the promenade’s fountain.

“Stay calm,” she said, trying to reassure a group of people cowered near her. “They’ll just want our goods. They have no reason to harm us…”

Strangely, however, the riders seemed to ignore the merchants, instead turning their attention towards the villagers, most of whom had vacated the center of the promenade and instead huddled in groups near the edges of the road.

_What are they doing?_ thought the woman, desperately trying to suppress her own fear.

The riders waited, so close to the terrified villagers that the horses’ breathing disturbed the air in the villagers’ faces. The unsettling tension then shifted. A final rider strode onto the promenade, armored but helmetless and obviously a leader of some sort. The woman could see his mangled beard and putrid teeth even from a distance.

“Har har!” the lone rider laughed. “It looks like this will be even easier than we thought, boys. Take ’em down!”

This seemed to be what the horsemen had been waiting for. Each raised a menacing weapon…and pointed it directly at a group of villagers. The woman could not contain her terror any longer as she saw a rider’s sword gleam in the sunlight, ready to strike…

Suddenly, there was a thunderous boom. Confused, the riders became momentarily distracted before being hit by a great gust of air. Startled, the horses neighed and reared backward. The villagers looked up just in time to see a fantastic shower of what appeared to be flower petals rain down all over the cobblestone road. Almost as soon as they had appeared, the petals were consumed by a cloud of purple smoke that swept through the street, completely obscuring everything from view. Utterly bewildered by the bizarre spectacle, no one, riders and villagers alike, expected to see a brilliant white pegasus and armored rider swoop downward, landing triumphantly in the promenade as the smoke cleared.

“Woo-hoo!” shouted the newcomer. “That was my best entrance yet! Purple smoke _and_ flower petals? Why didn’t I think of this before?”

She then turned her attention to the horsemen. Her eyebrows narrowed in determination. “As for you,” she said with gusto, “prepare to face the righteous wrath of the mighty Cynthia!”

Still shocked from Cynthia’s sudden arrival, the enemy horsemen could do nothing but stare, perplexed. The only reaction came from the riders’ leader. Seething, he attempted to brush flower petals from his armor unsuccessfully.

“What is the meaning of THIS?!” he spat. “This village has some ridiculous savior?”

He drew his sword angrily, pointing its tip straight at Cynthia. “Well, no matter. It will be my personal pleasure to gut you like a fish!”

Cynthia met his gaze evenly. “Try me,” she countered, standing her ground.

The leader’s beady eyes narrowed. “Kill them all!” he screamed to his men, as he prepared to charge at the lone pegasus knight.

The enemy sprang into action, prepared to carry out their commander’s orders. But the villagers were prepared – the extravagant chaos had strengthened their resolve.

“Fight back!” shouted the villager woman. Grabbing a wooden board lying nearby, she attempted to bash the nearest rider. Though rider’s armor protected him from any real injury, the force of the blow was enough to knock him from his horse, and he fell to the ground with a metallic clang. The other villagers let out a cry of defiance, and pushed back against the enemy.

The riders’ leader kicked his horse harshly, jolting his mount towards Cynthia. Observing her opponent’s mad dash, Cynthia and her pegasus danced clear with a winged whoosh as a sword sliced the air where she had been. “Haha!” she shouted triumphantly. “Missed me!”

Angered past the point of annoyance, the leader gritted his teeth into a snarl and lunged again, only to have his sword clash with the shaft of a lance.

Meanwhile, local soldiers had arrived, and they reinforced the villagers, overwhelming the enemy forces. The leader’s head darted this way and that, and, finding that his troops were outnumbered, he called for retreat, turning around and with a final glare at Cynthia.

“We’ll meet again, swine,” he spat, galloping away.

“Hey!” shouted Cynthia. “You won’t get away from me that easily!”

Urging her pegasus into flight, she prepared to give chase. With a great cry, she shot into the air, scanning the streets for the retreating riders. But when she finally spotted the enemy, they had already cleared the edge of town and speeding away at the lightning-fast pace. Cynthia sighed, realizing that she would never close the distance. Instead, she flew back downward, landing smoothly in center of town.

The promenade was in complete disarray. Merchant stalls lay in pieces with goods scattered everywhere. Some townspeople were still sprawled on the ground, requiring assistance to stand. A slight burnt smell still lingered, and almost everything in sight, even the soldiers that had just arrived, was covered in flower petals.

“Whoa,” observed Cynthia. “That _was_ quite the scuffle, wasn’t it?”

Dismounting, she hopped onto the ground, still full of energy. “I guess I can count that as a victory,” she said to herself. “If only those guys hadn’t been lame and run away…”

Seeing Cynthia arrive, one of the local soldiers walked towards her. “Hello, miss,” he said. “Our company was on the other side of town when we saw a giant cloud of purple smoke. What happened here?”

“There were a few bad guys,” replied Cynthia, “but they were pretty outmatched.”

The soldier gave her a puzzled look. “But what of the smoke?”

“That was me!” Cynthia said with a grin. “Duh!”

Another soldier, significantly taller and more imposing than the other, joined the conversation. His uniform, slightly different from the rest, seemed to indicate that he was in command.

“I have a hard time believing a small group of horsemen could have caused all this,” the commander said. “It looks like a freak storm blew through here.”

He sighed openly. “Well, we seem to have chased those riders off. It was strange though…when we showed up they seemed to be trying to attack the villagers…”

“They were,” came a defiant voice. The villager woman from earlier appeared, and looked the commander straight in the eye despite a significant difference in height. “If this girl hadn’t appeared, we would all likely be dead right now.”

The commander turned to Cynthia. “It appears you have our gratitude, then.” His brow furrowed. “But attacking people first wouldn’t make sense…”

“Huh?” inquired Cynthia. “Why not?”

“This is a trading village,” answered the woman. “Its value lies in the products and services that pass through. It would have been logical for a raiding party to steal our supplies, and maybe attack innocents for sport…but they seemed to ignore our goods altogether.”

“Well, the most we can do now is station guards around the edge of town so we’re prepared if they decide to come back,” decided the commander. “You all should try and get back to what you were doing.”

He walked away, signaling for several soldiers to follow. The villager woman stared after him. She grimaced. “I don’t know how we’re expected to pretend that we weren’t just attacked…”

She turned to Cynthia. “Despite the mess, our village thanks you,” she said. “My name is Keira, by the way. You must be Cynthia.”

“You’ve heard of me?” asked Cynthia, genuinely surprised.

Keira nodded. “We receive bits and pieces of news from beyond the mountains now and then. Mostly they were tales of accidental destruction, so naturally all of us thought they were embellished…”

She trailed off. “Anyway, what will you do now?” she asked.

Cynthia thought for a second, then her expression changed to one of concern. “Actually, I hadn’t thought about it…” she admitted.

“Well, I have a spare room in my home, and you are welcome to stay the night,” offered Keira. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Thanks a bunch!” replied Cynthia. “But first, I’ll help tidy up around here. You guys could use some help!”

Grinning widely, she dashed over to the nearest heap of debris and began picking it up, only to drop most of it when she tried to carry it.

“She certainly does have spirit,” observed Keira to herself.

* * *

 

After assisting the villagers in cleaning the promenade, a task that involved more missteps than anticipated, Cynthia accepted Keira’s offer of hospitality. After making sure her pegasus was comfortable outside, Cynthia followed Keira into her house, and Keira began preparing a comfortable meal of hot vegetable soup. Cynthia was quite animated, talking profusely while trying to eat at the same time.

“You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you where I was from originally,” she said between bites. “But I’m here now, so I’m ready to face the forces of injustice!”

“That’s quite a task you’ve set for yourself,” noted Keira. “But what of your family? What are they like?”

“Well,” replied Cynthia, “Mother’s settled down back in Ylisse, and my batty sister is always finding some wacky new thing to do. Father is…”

Cynthia fell strangely silent, a sharp contrast to her usual demeanor. “Father’s…gone now,” she said finally, staring down into the depths of her soup.

Almost as quickly as her mood had changed however, her enthusiasm returned. “But they’re doing fine. I go to visit sometimes. Huh, I haven’t been back in a while. I should check on them soon.”

Over the course of the meal, Cynthia shared many stories with Keira – stories of triumph, heroism, and comrades united. Some were of the future, and others of the past. Keira listened attentively all the while, but eventually began to tire, while Cynthia appeared to have no lack of energy.

“Thank you for your stories, Cynthia,” said Keira as she attempted to stifle a great yawn. “Maybe we should get some rest?”

Cynthia paused for a moment in the middle of relating a particularly gruesome battle to look at Keira. “Ooh, you do look tired,” Cynthia observed. “Well, ok then. Time to get some sleep. Goodnight!”

She bounded towards the spare bedroom, barely waiting for Keira to say something in return. Laying down in the bed, Cynthia attempted to sleep.

She didn’t feel tired in the slightest. In fact, she felt quite the opposite. Each creak of the house or sound of the night seemed to distract her from dozing off. Finally, with a grumble of annoyance, Cynthia threw away the bed covers and tiptoed quietly out of the house.

She joined her pegasus outside, and stood stroking its forehead soothingly. “Hey there, old girl,” she whispered. “I just couldn’t sleep. Everything ended up being so exciting today!”

Cynthia shook her head in frustration. “Oh, how will I ever get to sleep now?”

Suddenly, she saw the approaching glow of torchlight and heard the murmur of voices. She ducked behind a feed trough and peeked over its edge. Two soldiers wearing the uniforms of local guards came walking down the street, and as they drew closer Cynthia was able to make out most of their conversation. One of the soldiers yawned loudly.

“Are you tired already, mate?” asked the other soldier. “It’s only halfway through the night and our patrol doesn’t end until sunrise.”

“Don’t overreact,” replied the yawning soldier. “I’m just worn out from all the action today.”

“Well, don’t get complacent. They could be coming back, after all. Our scouts found their base camp north of the town, just high enough in the mountains so that no one could see them coming. We have to keep a watchful eye, hear? Tomorrow we can go mop up.”

The tired soldier chuckled. “Then I’ll be able to get some sleep, eh?”

Their words became softer as they walked away, their torchlights fading into the night. From her hiding place, Cynthia almost radiated excitement.

_Yes!_ she thought, clenching her hands into determined fists. _This is my big chance!_

Turning to her pegasus, she began strapping on her armor. “C’mon! Now we know where those villainous bandits are hiding! Let’s go get ’em!”

Climbing onto her mount, Cynthia’s face lit up with a determined smile. “No one can hide from Cynthia!”

* * *

 

Within minutes, Cynthia and her pegasus were soaring through the darkened sky. In the air, Cynthia had greater visibility than most grounded troops, and used this to her advantage. She set a course to the north, carefully scanning for anything out of place. The moon shone brightly that night, shedding a soft glow over the landscape. After flying for some time, Cynthia reached the innermost mountain peaks, angling her view downward and weaving amongst elevated valleys from a safe distance overhead. Soon, Cynthia spotted a few clustered pinpricks of light flickering in the distance.

“There!” she said aloud. “That _must_ be their camp! I can sneak in and take them all by surprise!”

With a growing excitement, Cynthia urged her pegasus forward, making a soft landing behind a rock formation a good distance away from the camp. Upon reaching the ground, she dismounted, jumping and landing in a crouch.

“Now, you stay here,” Cynthia told her pegasus. “I’m going to get a closer look.”

Her pegasus replied with a whinny of disapproval.

“Shh!” Cynthia whispered shrilly. “I’ll be back!”

Then, almost as if she had been poised on a spring, she dashed from the rocks, ducking for cover as she stealthily approached the camp. Eventually, Cynthia found a boulder that was just the right size for a vantage point, and her head popped up to peek over the edge, dark red curls bouncing.

People walked around the camp, moving between cloth tents. Horses, fully armored, were tied to stakes across from Cynthia’s hiding place. Torchlight illuminated the scarred, gaunt faces of the bandits, and Cynthia could hear the menacing scrape of one bandit sharpening a sword. One thing Cynthia did not see, however, was any kind of wagon or cart. It looked as though the bandits were able to pack and move quickly, ready for battle or retreat. As she observed, Cynthia’s resolve grew stronger.

_If I don’t take these guys out right here and now, they’ll just run away!_ she thought.

Cynthia was still pondering her next move when she was suddenly grabbed from behind. A large hand covered her mouth to stifle a shout, and several pairs of hands dragged her out of cover. Cynthia turned her head around and saw that her assailants were dressed just like the bandits below. With a sudden movement she twisted her torso and unleashed a flying kick at the leftmost figure. Cynthia’s foot connected with the figure’s head. He let out a cry of pain and stumbled backwards, clutching his face. Almost immediately, the two other captors tightened their grip on her arms. Cynthia continued to struggle, though she knew that she could not escape from all three of the bandits. Eventually, the energy to resist left her, and she had no choice but to allow her captors to carry her away.

_And I was going to take_ them _by surprise…_ she thought ruefully.

The bandits dragged her into the torchlight, and she caught the hardened gazes of several rugged-looking men before being led to the largest tent in the camp. Cynthia was tossed through the tent flaps, landing forcefully on the dirt.

“Well, well,” came a voice. “Looks like we have someone new here.”

Cynthia spat dust from her mouth, raising herself to stand. Upon looking up, her gaze beheld a stern-faced man sitting on a stump. Despite his menacing scars and unshaven face, he looked amused, staring at Cynthia with an air of smugness. Beside the man was another bandit, whom Cynthia recognized instantly as the leader of the riders that had attacked the town that afternoon. Fully armored, he leaned on a fearsome-looking lance and glowered at Cynthia.

“Now just who are you supposed to be?” asked Cynthia defiantly.

The sitting man grinned nastily. “I think it would make more sense for me to be asking you that question,” he said. “That is, if I didn’t already know the answer.”

At this Cynthia appeared surprised. “Ah, yes,” replied the man. “We’ve heard of the ‘legendary’ Cynthia.” He laughed openly. “After my lieutenant here described the battle today, I was sure of it. Word travels quickly, you know. Subtlety isn’t a strength you seem to possess.”

Cynthia’s eyes narrowed angrily. “Maybe not,” she retorted, “but I can surely best you in combat.”

This prompted an even larger laugh from the man. “Ha! I’m sure you would like to try. The trouble is, I won’t allow you to escape that easily. Not while we have unfinished business in town.”

Sensing an opportunity, Cynthia asked, “Why are you attacking the town? What’s the point?”

“Well,” considered the man. “I suppose you won’t be there to swoop in and save the day, now will you? Fine. That town is wasted as a trading village. We’re simply…liberating it to use in our future operations.”

He gestured around. “What better place to reside than land with mountains on every side? It’s naturally defensible.”

He placed his hands on his knees. “Does that satisfy you, girl, because I think you’ve heard enough. For now, you’ll just stay here with us. I wonder how much the villagers would give up to have their precious ‘hero’ back.”

He signaled with a wave. The two guards posted at the tent flap grabbed Cynthia roughly by her arms and pulled her away. “You won’t be getting away with this so easily!” she shouted back.

“Oh, but I think you’ll find that we will,” the man replied.

The guards led Cynthia across the camp and took her to another tent. Taking no chances, they tied her wrists to a stake and a gag to her mouth, leaving her to sit in the tent. In darkness, Cynthia was resigned to waiting.

_I’m no good to anyone stuck here!_ thought Cynthia, frustrated. _I have to get out of here somehow…_

She tried to wrench her wrists from the bindings, but the bandit guards had done their task well. Cynthia could tell that she wouldn’t be able to escape on her own. She sighed heavily though the gag, hanging her head.

_How did I go and mess this up?_ she wondered. _Keira and all those people down in the village are depending on me…I have to escape, I just have to!_

_But…can I?_

A small sliver of doubt crept into the back of Cynthia’s mind. She fought against it, attempting to crush it with the sheer force of her own energy, but the doubt remained.

A few hours passed. Cynthia wasn’t sure how long she had been trapped, but it remained dark. Surely the bandits would attack again soon…

Cynthia groaned openly, struggling again with a futile effort. So consumed was she in her frustration that she almost failed to notice as the side of the tent began to move. Puzzled, Cynthia turned her head to look – and flinched as a sword sliced through the thin fabric. Her eyes grew wide as the sword proceeded to cut a sizeable hole, and soon its wielder stepped though. Cynthia jumped, which prompted an exasperated response from the newcomer.

“It’s me, you clod.”

Walking over to Cynthia, the figure untied the gag. Cynthia could see the figure’s two long ponytails and armor outlined in the torchlight seeping through the hole in the tent.

“Severa!” exclaimed Cynthia excitedly, trying to keep her voice down. “I never thought there’d be a day when you would rescue _me_! How did you get here?”

“I said I was taking a solitary journey!” Severa replied. “Does the word ‘solitary’ mean nothing to you? I’ve been wandering for my own health.”

“How’d you know where to find me?” asked Cynthia.

Severa snorted. “With all the mayhem _you_ cause finding you was almost as simple as following a travelling circus. Besides, I wanted to buy something pretty in town.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course _these_ creeps had to show up. Now I’ll have to get rid of them myself. What a complete bother!”

“Hey!” said Cynthia indignantly. “Don’t forget about me! I’m the heroic one! And my hands are still tied!”

Severa smiled mischievously. “Maybe I’ll just leave you tied up.”

Cynthia grumbled, but Severa set to work on the bindings. “Ow, these are tight!” complained Severa. “I better not ruin a nail.”

Within a minute, Cynthia was free. She massaged her wrists while Severa peeked out the tent flap, scouting.

“So they just left you here, unguarded? Gawds, these bandits are stupid.” Severa smirked. “But they _did_ manage to capture you…”

Ignoring the jape, Cynthia joined her. “I’ll be the one to make them face the cold steel of justice!”

“Uh-huh,” replied Severa. “With what weapon, exactly?”

Fired up for a fight, Cynthia had failed to notice that she was weaponless. “Now that you mention it, this hero does need a weapon…”

Severa pointed. “Lucky they put some right behind this tent.” She sighed. “How did these bandits ever accomplish anything?”

Cynthia poked her head through Severa’s makeshift entrance. Sure enough, several lances stood on a wooden rack. Selecting one, Cynthia rejoined Severa.

“Yes!” cried Cynthia, pumping her fist in the air. “Now I’m ready!”

“So we need a plan,” said Severa. She rolled her eyes again. “Of course, none of my plans can ever measure up to your dad’s.”

“Well,” said Cynthia. “I noticed before they grabbed me that most of them seem to be over there.” She pointed at the northeast side of the camp, where several tents were clustered. “If we can distract them, we can take them by surprise.” She grinned. “It was my original plan all along!”

“That turned out well,” said Severa sarcastically.

“I’ve got a secret, though!” Cynthia said. She grabbed several things attached to her belt and held them out for Severa to examine.

“And what are those?” asked Severa, unimpressed.

Cynthia grinned even wider. “Our distraction!”

* * *

 

Since Cynthia’s capture, activity had died down in the bandit camp. Most of the inhabitants had retired to their bedrolls, and those that remained on watch yawned, eyes drooping. Those on the lookout might have expected the occasional wild animal, or even another enemy, to approach the camp from the outside, but none could have anticipated the billowing cloud of purple smoke that erupted with a great boom from the prisoner’s tent. Confused, the bandits could only watch as the smoke consumed them.

One of the watchmen found himself completely immersed by the cloud. The smoke was so thick that he completely lost his sense of direction, turning his head this way and that in a panic. Then, as if in a dream, a disembodied voice shouted triumphantly.

“My name is Cynthia! Perish in the name of righteous rage!”

Leaping through the fog, Cynthia’s lance cut down the bewildered bandit. One of the other bandits had discovered the ruse.

“The prisoner has esca- ach!”

Severa’s sword prevented the bandit from finishing his warning. She scoffed. “These guys aren’t even worth the trouble.”

Although the watchman’s shout had been cut short, the rest of the camp was roused nonetheless. More bandits poured from the tents, but they remained groggy and neglected to don armor. Using the smoke as cover, Cynthia and Severa made quick work of the rest of the bandits. As Cynthia felled the last enemy, the smoke began to clear.

“I can’t say that wasn’t ridiculous, but it did work,” admitted Severa.

“See?” said Cynthia. “Triumph for the warriors of truth!”

“Hold on,” replied Severa. “I think we forgot a few.”

Two forms stepped out of the dissipating cloud. One was the bandit leader, carrying a gleaming sword pointed towards Cynthia and Severa. The other was his lieutenant, whose face was contorted into an expression of indescribable rage.

“Well aren’t you resourceful,” said the leader. “And I see you brought a friend. How very nice. It’s really too bad that we’ll have to slay you.”

With a lightning quick dash, the leader sprang forward. Severa ran to meet his attack and the clang of steel on steel echoed through the mountain valley. Cynthia moved to assist her friend, but was distracted by the lumbering approach of the lieutenant.

“Hello, swine,” he spat. “I made a promise last time we met. I said that I would gut you, and I intend to fulfill that promise.”

He used his momentum to swing a mighty axe downward at Cynthia, who was barely able to block the blow with the shaft of her lance. Staggering backward, she tumbled to the ground, rolling away to dodge another attack. Meanwhile, Severa struggled against the leader, whose nimble strikes forced her to parry constantly. Her breathing started to become heavy, but before the leader could land a crippling blow, Severa turned to the offensive.

“Enough!” she shouted, bringing the full force of her blade down on the leader. The steel sliced through his left shoulder, causing a cry of pain. Stepping backward, the leader wasted no time in changing tactics, adopting a one-handing style, attempting to pester Severa with short jabs.

Cynthia thrust her lance towards the lieutenant, but a sidestep caused the lance to puncture only air. The lieutenant yanked his axe from the ground, then swung his weapon in a vertical cleave. Cynthia ducked, then somersaulted backward. “Not one step further!” she shouted, baring her lance.

The lieutenant laughed, unintimidated by Cynthia’s threat. “Your threats are meaningless. Say goodbye to your life.”

Then, he charged, bringing his axe to bear.

Out of nowhere, a great cry arose, accompanied by a fantastic whoosh. A brilliant white pegasus burst into the fray kicking the lieutenant with one of its hooves. Losing hold of his axe, the lieutenant was thrown backward. In an instant, Cynthia rolled forward and jammed her lance into the lieutenant’s unprotected midsection. The oncoming attack halted, and the lieutenant fell to the ground, Cynthia’s lance protruding through his back.

He coughed, and flecks of blood colored the ground. “Looks like you win…swine.”

Then he was still.

A short distance away, Severa gained ground on the bandit leader. Hacking and slashing relentlessly, she had almost beaten the enemy down. But one of Severa’s attacks left her open, and the leader slashed her arm.

“Aah!” Severa cried, staggering. She blinked, and within a split second saw the opposing blade whistling towards her torso…

“Hey you!” came a shout from Cynthia. “You didn’t forget about me, did you?”

Cynthia threw her lance, and it sailed straight at the leader. Diverting his attention, he easily parried with his sword, but the action gave Severa the opportunity she needed. Letting out a wild yell, she brought her sword in an arc, striking the leader in the chest.

“That’s for the village!” cried Cynthia as the leader fell.

For a few moments, everything was silent. As the adrenaline of battle left them, Cynthia and Severa stood gathering their breath.

“Hey!” Cynthia exclaimed with concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” said Severa defensively. “It’s just a pinprick! I don’t need you worrying about me.”

She looked over Cynthia in return. “How about you? No major injuries?”

Cynthia smiled. “Not me! Not a scratch!” She reached up and hugged the neck of her pegasus. “And it’s all thanks to you, girl,” she said affectionately. “Mother was right! You always come back for me.”

Severa chuckled lightly, still worn out. “We do make quite the team, don’t we?” she said.

“Sure thing!” replied Cynthia, hopping on the back of her pegasus. She offered Severa a hand. “Let’s go back to town, shall we?”

* * *

 

Dawn was breaking as Cynthia and Severa left the bandit camp, and by the time they reached town all of the villagers were beginning the day. Cynthia and Severa swooped down from the sky, startling several sleepy soldiers along the way, and landed right in the center of town. The pair dismounted as a few soldiers ran to meet them.

“Where’ve you been, miss?” one of the soldiers asked.

“Let’s just say your bandit problem is over,” said Severa.

“Yep!” confirmed Cynthia. “We took care of it!”

Expressions of awe emanated from the crowd of villagers as they observed the pair of returning heroes. One voice rose above the rest.

“Cynthia!” cried Keira as she made her way through the crowd. Upon reaching the center she stopped. “Is it true?” she asked, looking at Cynthia. “Did you take out the bandits?”

Cynthia nodded. Keira turned to look at the assembled crowd.

“I think I speak for all of us when I say this village owes you a debt it can never repay,” she said. “Both of you,” she added, looking to Severa.

“Thanks,” replied Severa, avoiding eye contact, but hiding a tiny smile.

“Will you be on your way soon?” asked Keira.

“Uh-huh,” replied Cynthia. “Everyone needs a hero, right?”

Keira smiled. “Know that you’re always welcome here.”

“I’ll remember!” said Cynthia enthusiastically. “Maybe I’ll come visit sometime.”

Then, Cynthia shouted so that all the villagers could hear. “Remember everyone! Truth and justice always prevail!”

With a whoosh of wings and a clop of hooves, Cynthia took off. Severa shouted “Hey!” but was forced to grab onto Cynthia as they shot into the sky. Soon, they were soaring off just below the clouds.

“You couldn’t have asked me before taking off on this joyride?” said Severa.

“Nuh-uh,” Cynthia replied, turning to flash Severa a big grin. “It’s more fun that way!”

Severa turned around and saw the people of the village get smaller and smaller in the distance.

“Huh,” she said. “Looks like you turned out to be a real hero.”

“I did have some help though,” said Cynthia.

With that, the pair set off towards a destination unknown to either, but promising equal parts adventure and mayhem.


	4. Trial and Error

_“As Ylisse's new knight captain, Frederick took charge of keeping the peace and training new recruits with his wife. Teaching was hard for Cordelia, however, as she was forced to neglect her own gifts…”_

* * *

 

“Good! Now, put your weight behind that swing.”

Blades flashed against the light of the noonday sun as two combatants sparred, the clang of steel echoing across the training ground. An orderly line of leather-armored recruits watched nervously as one of their own crossed blades with their intimidating captain.

Frederick, towering over the young recruits, parried oncoming strikes with ease. His movements were slight as he reacted to his opponent’s attacks. Soon, he noticed the recruit’s swings began to lack force and the recruit’s breathing grew ragged.

“That’s enough for now,” Frederick said with authority. “How do you feel, recruit?”

The recruit took several more seconds to catch his breath. “With all respect sir…” he began, his eyes falling to the ground. “You didn’t mention that we would be using real swords today…”

“Ah,” replied Frederick. “Is that what has you worried? I prepared for today’s training session by specifically acquiring dull swords from royal blacksmith. These weapons are barely serviceable for slicing fruit. There’s nothing to worry about.”

This comment did nothing to reassure the other recruits, who were sweating profusely, not entirely due to the midday heat.

“You’ve made a fair bit of progress,” said Frederick, taking the practice sword from the weary recruit. “Now,” he began, turning to the other recruits with a smile. “Who would like to spar next?”

Each of the recruits had the instantaneous compulsion to step backward, but resisted the urge to do so. Instead, the entire group stood ramrod straight, staring into the distance. An uncomfortable silence hung over the group for several seconds as Frederick observed them, his hands clasped behind his back expectantly.

“Come now,” said Frederick. “All of you must be ready to train. Everyone must be prepared, lest calamity strike unexpectedly.”

For several more awkward seconds, the silence continued. No one spoke…until one recruit stepped forward. It was a girl, with short blonde hair and wavering eyes. The other recruits allowed themselves to exhale slightly in relief.

“Well!” exclaimed Frederick, clearly pleased. “What might your name be?”

The recruit forced herself to raise her head and look Frederick in the eye. “Lena, sir…” she said with as much confidence as she could muster.

“Are you prepared, Lena?” Frederick asked, offering her the hilt of a sword.

“Well…” replied Lena. “I should probably mention that swords aren’t really my area… Perhaps I could practice with throwing weapons?”

Frederick smiled. “I believe that can be arranged.”

* * *

 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the training ground, a completely different session was taking place. Another group of recruits, spears in hand, stared intently at wooden targets stationed forty feet away. Walking amongst them was a woman with radiant red hair, herself carrying a formidable-looking spear.

Pacing back and forth, Cordelia observed her students. “Now, is everyone ready? After the past few days of practice, your spear throwing should be improved.”

A few of the recruits managed semi-confident nods.

“And…begin!”

On Cordelia’s signal, spears soared from the hands of the recruits. While a few managed to strike the targets, most spears fell short of the mark, striking the ground instead. Cordelia sighed softly. While she had noticed some improvement among the recruits, every one of them still had a long road ahead.

_If I didn’t know better, I might have mistaken this for wartime_ , thought Cordelia. _These recruits remind me so much of those I trained with Frederick years ago…_

As if he had emerged straight from her thoughts, Cordelia turned to see Frederick approaching from across the field, trainees in tow. The sight of him brought a smile to her face. Perhaps he could help her instruct her own students…

“It is only fitting that you learn from the best,” Frederick was saying to one recruit, a girl. “My lovely wife is a more refined user of thrown weapons than I.”

He looked up, returning Cordelia’s smile as he and his students reached her. “You look as wonderful as ever,” he said. “Is your training session running smoothly?”

“Relatively well,” Cordelia replied, looking back at the row of lance throwers. Several more recruits had managed to hit the targets, but no recruit’s aim had been precise enough to land a hit near the center. “They still need practice.”

“Then our timing could not be more appropriate,” said Frederick, gesturing to the recruit on his right. “This recruit wishes to know more about throwing weapons.”

“I’m Lena…” she offered, her eyes gazing at Cordelia. “…It will be an honor to learn from someone so talented.”

Cordelia smiled at Lena. “I would be happy to show you what I know.”

Turning to her own recruits, she raised a hand, shouting, “Hold! You may take a break.”

The recruits were visibly weary, grateful for a rest. Setting their spears to the ground, the recruits stepped away.

“Now, Lena,” began Cordelia. “What would you like to start with?”

Lena thought for a moment, her eyes shifting away. After a few seconds, she looked back at Cordelia. “Perhaps…we could start with throwing axes? I’ve been told that I am best with axes…”

Cordelia nodded. “Let’s see how experienced you are, then.” She gestured to one of her own students. Instantly the young man ran off, only to return carrying an armload of hand axes like firewood.

“Careful, recruit,” cautioned Frederick. “We wouldn’t want anyone losing limbs today, would we?”

The boy nodded profusely, setting the axes down unceremoniously at the feet of Cordelia and Lena and scampering off quickly. Lena stared hesitantly at the weapons, unsure of how to proceed.

“Go ahead, Lena,” encouraged Cordelia. “Make sure the axes suit you.”

Lena nodded more confidently. She selected an axe from the pile and examined it. Taking a few steps back, she hefted the axe and took a few practice swings. “I think I’m ready,” she said to Frederick and Cordelia.

Cordelia smiled. “Good. We’ll start by throwing at targets.”

The trio made their way to the field where the recruits had been practicing with spears a few minutes before. Lena stared at the targets. Again, she looked unsure of what to do next.

“Perhaps it would be best if you started at that first line there,” suggested Cordelia. She pointed to a white stripe in the grass roughly ten yards away from the targets. Lena nodded and walked over to the indicated line as Cordelia and Frederick looked on.

Cordelia observed Lena closely. Lena still looked a bit nervous, her eyes shifting this way and that, refusing to focus on the target. That would likely cause her to throw the axe to the side of the target. Also, despite Lena’s assurance that she was ready, Cordelia could tell that the weapon was just slightly heavier than was comfortable for her. Cordelia shook her head slightly. This recruit showed potential, but it would be a long road for her to hone her skills.

Lena crouched slightly into a throwing stance. Then, before uneasiness could overtake her, she brought the axe over her shoulder and released a mighty throw. The weapon sailed across the field and collided with a dull thud.

“That was a good first try, Lena,” called Cordelia. “You still have a ways to go, but with practice-”

Cordelia stopped short, astonished. When she watched Lena prepare for her throw, she was convinced that the axe would miss the target altogether. To her surprise, the axe was embedded dead center in the middle of the target.

“Splendid!” praised Frederick.

Lena seemed just as surprised as Cordelia that she had managed to hit the target. She walked to the target and yanked the weapon from the straw, returning to her original position.

_She must have been lucky_ , thought Cordelia.

“Perhaps you might move to the second line, Lena,” suggested Frederick.

Lena dutifully turned around and walked five yards back to the next line. Again, she hefted the axe and threw with all her strength. Cordelia’s eyes followed the axe as it sailed towards the target…hitting the ring just outside the center. Cordelia blinked. She was beginning to doubt the amount of luck influenced Lena’s performance.

“I am starting to think that this may be too easy for you, Lena,” said Frederick. “Try the next line.”

Jogging to retrieve her weapon once again, Lena positioned herself on the third and final line. More confident this time, she steadied herself and heaved the axe forward, this time with a yell.

Cordelia’s eyes widened. The throw had resulted in _another_ bullseye. Twenty yards from the target was a distance at which seasoned warriors usually trained.

“My, my,” observed Frederick. “I do believe that you were not giving yourself enough credit.”

Lena turned around to look at him. “Maybe I’m better than I thought…” she said.

“However, there is one thing you must keep in mind,” interjected Cordelia. “You have plenty of time to prepare your throws now, but in the middle of battle it is unlikely you will have that luxury.”

Lena nodded in understanding and turned to gaze at the target, still surprised at her own skill.

Cordelia looked, too. Then, an idea came to her suddenly. “It’s been awhile since I’ve used throwing weapons myself, since I’ve started instructing,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Spears are usually my weapon of choice,” she said to Lena.

Frederick chuckled. “That, my dear, is something of an understatement. I pity the enemy at the receiving end of one of your throws.”

Cordelia turned on her heel and strode towards a rack of spears, so quickly that her hair billowed behind her. She returned with a particularly nasty-looking lance. Taking her place adjacent to Lena, she tested the weapon’s weight. It was a throwing lance, the variety she had used quite frequently during the war. She stood at the line, her eyes narrowed at the target. Then, with a battle cry, she hurled the lance forward with all of her strength. The lance moved so fast that it seemed to cut through the air, hitting its target within a split second. Cordelia turned confidently to observe her handiwork…only to discover that the lance had penetrated the outermost ring.

Cordelia frowned. Certainly, she had been successful in hitting the target, but in a real battle that throw would have grazed an enemy’s shoulder, at most. Walking with purpose, Cordelia forcefully yanked the lance from the straw and returned to the line next to Lena.

_I must be out of practice_ …she thought, gripping the lance again. She planted her feet, digging her heels into the ground. Releasing an even louder cry, she hurled her lance once more. Cordelia was sure that her precise throw would land exactly where she intended. Strangely, there was no satisfying sound of the lance hitting the target.

Cordelia looked up, stunned. Her lance was pointed upward out of the ground, short of the target by a foot.

“It appears that I’m not my old self…” she said, a bit of dismay creeping into her voice. She turned to Lena. “I hope you enjoyed your practice today.”

Lena smiled. “Thank you for the opportunity, Miss Cordelia,” she said politely.

The two walked back to rejoin Frederick. Frederick placed an armored hand on Lena’s shoulder, clearly pleased. “You’ve certainly done well today,” he said. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day for yourself?”

Lena beamed. “Thank you, sir!” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

With that, she ran back to gather her things.

Cordelia noticed that many of her own students had gathered to watch the demonstration. Several were talking amongst themselves.

She turned to Frederick. “Perhaps we should give all of the recruits the rest of the day off,” she said quickly. “After all, they have been working hard.”

“That sounds like a fine idea,” agreed Frederick.

Cordelia shouted to her group of recruits. “You’ve all put in a good effort today! You may leave early today!”

Upon hearing the news, the recruits’ faces first registered puzzlement, but quickly was transformed to relief. They gathered their gear and dispersed soon after. As she watched them leave, Cordelia felt weary, her uneasiness growing.

* * *

 

The sun was setting as Frederick and Cordelia began their walk back into Ylisse proper, their feet clicking against the cobblestones. Cordelia kept her head bowed, hiding behind her curtain of hair. She had a faint hope that Frederick wouldn’t notice her change in mood, but she knew her husband better than that. Frederick kept his gaze fixed forward. But, ever astute, he noticed Cordelia’s silence. It was unusual for her. Most days they walked in step with each other, looking forward together.

“Is something the matter, my dear?” he inquired, turning to look at her.

Cordelia raised her head slowly to look at him. “I was thinking about today,” she admitted. “It was…embarrassing, frankly.”

“Do you mean our last training session with Lena?”

Cordelia hung her head even lower. As she had expected, he did notice. “I was _miserable_ ,” she sighed.

“Nonsense,” replied Frederick. “Even your mastery of the lance cannot best fatigue.” He smiled. “Training recruits requires tremendous energy.”

Cordelia appreciated his support, but she had already convinced herself that it was something else. Besides, Frederick seemed never to tire. If anything, his energy increased after a long day of training.

Cordelia shook her head. “This was different. I’ve never missed a target before…even in training. And those were targets the recruits were training with!”

Cordelia swallowed. Normally, she wasn’t afraid to say anything. But this next confession pained her to voice.

“Frederick…helping you brings joy to my heart…but I don’t think I’m fit to be an instructor.”

Frederick stopped. “What makes you say that?” he asked.

“Look at how badly the demonstration went today. I’ve…never done that badly. Ever. How can I expect to teach students properly if I’m unable to keep up with my own skills?”

“But Cordelia,” protested Frederick. “You were a fantastic instructor when we first began to teach together. Surely you are underestimating yourself.”

Cordelia sighed. “That was wartime. Peace is wonderful, but I’m not the warrior I once was.”

Frederick paused, then nodded understandingly. “Neither am I, my love. I, too, feel my abilities waning. But, if that is the price of peace, I accept it as my duty.”

The two stood in thought for a moment. Then, Cordelia’s face brightened. She reached forward and clasped Frederick’s hands in her own.

“I know what I can do. I’d like to reform the Pegasus Knights.”

Without waiting for a response, Cordelia continued excitedly. “Think about it: as we’ve trained the new recruits, I’ve noticed several that would make fine members. Our numbers have yet to recover from the war. I’d be teaching new fliers the best way I know how…from the sky.”

She smiled, as if accepting a challenge. “I would be honing my skills again, too.”

Frederick was glad to see his wife as her usual self once again. “A fine idea,” he said. “I believe we will have no trouble convincing our Exalt that the Pegasus Knights are once again needed.”

He knelt and looked up at her. Staring into her eyes, he remembered exactly how he had fallen in love with her. Cordelia, too, knew in her heart that she had grown closer to Frederick for a reason. The fiery spirit of duty and purpose burned bright within both of them.

“It appears you and I are destined to pass the land and the sky to the next generation,” he said finally.

The two passed reached Ylisse just as the sun was sinking past the horizon, chatting excitedly about events to come.


	5. Good Fortune

          Several days passed, and morning saw Cordelia taking a stroll out of the hustle and bustle of Ylisstol. Her destination was just close enough to the capitol that someone could feel connected to city life, but just far away enough to fully embrace the open spaces of the country. Soon, Cordelia came upon a beautiful, sprawling pasture. A solitary house was nestled next to the dirt road, wafts of smoke drafting from its chimney. As soon as she was close enough, Cordelia walked to the edge of the small wooden fence adjacent to the road. The sun, shining brightly, reflected light off of the shimmering coats of pegasi that grazed peacefully in the field. Cordelia couldn’t see the end of the fence; it extended over small hills in the distance. To a passing onlooker, the fence might have seemed silly. After all, the pegasi that occupied the field would have absolutely no trouble clearing the meager wooden posts. No, the fence was in place to mark the border of sanctuary. Any creature visiting the pasture would know that within those boundaries were safety and comfort. Cordelia scanned the field, her hand over her brow to block the sun. Then, when her eyes spied what she was searching for, she strode through the gate in the fence and picked up her pace.

          Of the many pegasi dotted in the field, one in the process of being groomed by a lone figure with soft-colored brown hair. A breeze caught her hair, blowing it about, but she paid it no mind.

          “Sumia!” called Cordelia.

          Sumia turned her head, and, spotting Cordelia approaching, her expression changed from curious to surprised to excited in a matter of seconds.

          “Oh! Cordelia!” she exclaimed, almost dropping the brush she held in her hand. As if poised on a spring, she ran towards her friend. The two met in the field and embraced.

          “It’s been awhile since we last saw each other,” said Cordelia after a minute. “Are you doing well?”

          “Oh, I’ve been wonderful!” replied Sumia. Arms wide, she spun around and took a deep whiff of the breeze, laughing. “I know I’ve only been here a few weeks, but it feels like a lifetime. The air is so fresh here!”

          Cordelia nodded. “I was glad when you told me you’d be you would be moving to the countryside. You always seemed just a little uncomfortable living in the capitol.”

          Sumia nodded in agreement. “That, and there are fewer things to trip over…”

          “How about some tea?” she suggested.

          Cordelia smiled. “That sounds lovely.”

          The two headed to Sumia’s cozy house near the road. Before opening the front door, Sumia hesitated. Cordelia gave her a puzzled look. Sumia avoided her gaze.

          “What’s the matter?” asked Cordelia.

          “Well, you see…” began Sumia. “I wasn’t expecting anyone, so it’s a bit of a mess…”

          “Oh, is that all?” replied Cordelia. “You know it takes more to drive me away than a bit of clutter.”

          Cordelia took charge and pulled the door open…only to be bombarded with a face full of flower petals. Sumia immediately began brushing the petals out of her friend’s hair. “Oh, I was hoping that wouldn’t happen,” she said, embarrassed.

          Cordelia gave a small, barely audible sigh. She felt she should have expected this particular type of clutter…

          It was when they entered the house that Cordelia was genuinely surprised. Not only were there flower petals near the doorway, but all over everything else in the house as well. Cordelia had only seen Sumia with this many petals a few times. One was an ill-fated battlefield spectacle mostly orchestrated by Cynthia, but each of the other instances had been a result of Sumia doing an overwhelming amount of flower fortunes at one time. And, in each of these instances, she had been worried about something…

          Besides the petal blizzard, the house was quite welcoming. A small, rounded wooden table was situated near a window with a magnificent view of the field outside, and a cushioned armchair was nestled in one corner. The second most numerous items in the house were books. Almost all of the wall space that was not occupied by a window was covered with a bookshelf. The books were of all shapes and sizes, some almost new and others well-worn. Many of the books sported two bookmarks peeking from within the pages.

          As soon as she set foot in the house, Sumia fetched a broom and attempted to consolidate the mess of petals, only to have more appear in the space she had just swept. She frowned in frustration, then set to work on the furniture. Thankfully, Sumia was able to brush most of the petals off of the table.

          Seeing her obvious distress, Cordelia said “Really, Sumia. I’m perfectly fine. You don’t have to clean this much for me.”

          Sumia unsuccessfully tried to hide her relief, and, after a few more halfhearted sweeps with her broom, she announced, “I’ll go fetch the tea! Make yourself comfortable.”

          Cordelia took a seat in one of the two chairs at the table. From the kitchen she could hear the sounds of clattering cups, followed by the sound of pouring tea and then the unmistakable drip of a spill. Sumia made a disappointed noise and set to work with what sounded like a damp towel. A minute later Sumia returned with a tray and two piping hot mugs of tea, almost losing her balance before placing the tray on the table.

          “There!” said Sumia with finality as she sat down. “All ready!” She took a cautionary sip of tea, then set it aside to wave at the steam rising from the cup.

          Cordelia took a sip of her own tea. It was tasty and not scalding, but still quite hot. She was used to Sumia’s uncoordinated tendencies, but she hadn’t seen such concentrated clumsiness in a while…

          As the tea began to cool, the two shared stories of their experiences since they had last seen each other. Cordelia told a tales about training mishaps and triumphs with Frederick, and Sumia excitedly recounted caring for a newborn pegasus the week prior. For a while they reminded each other of old memories and looked back to the past with fondness.

          At one point, Sumia sighed deeply. “Still, I’m so glad the war is over, even if all of us did make happy memories…”

          She trailed off and turned her gaze towards the window.

          “It’s true,” Cordelia replied. “Even then, we made the most out of the situation.” She too turned to look outside. “To tell the truth, thinking about our time as soldiers has been a bit difficult lately…”

          Sumia turned to look at her friend.

          “What’s the matter?” she asked with concern.

          Cordelia sighed. “I love Frederick, but I’ve never been a teacher. We grew close instructing soldiers during the war, but even then teaching was out of necessity. Just the other day, I couldn’t handle a lance like I was used to. I’d be doing a disservice to Ylisse’s future soldiers if I have to teach them things I’ve forgotten myself…”

          She looked back at Sumia. Her friend’s face was full of worry. But then…she smiled.

          “I know how strong you are, Cordelia,” she said. “I don’t know how I would manage, but I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

          Looking back at Sumia, Cordelia realized that she must have guessed that something was the matter before she had mentioned it. They had been friends for far too long to miss when something wasn’t right with the other. Just as Cordelia could see that Sumia was trying very hard to hide some feelings of her own…

          “Actually, that’s part of the reason I came to visit today,” Cordelia continued. “I’m going to reorganize the Pegasus Knights.”

          Sumia’s eyes lit up. “Oh Cordelia, that’s wonderful!”

          Cordelia nodded. “The more I think about it, I know that my place is back in the sky. I can’t thank you enough for taking care of Aurora, but it looks like we’ll be together again soon.”

          Cordelia told Sumia of her plan. Sumia listened intently, but gradually grew more distant. She would smile and nod, offering words of support, but seemed to be lost in thought. Cordelia wanted desperately to ask what the matter was, but Sumia never brought up her evident troubles. Eventually, Cordelia concluded that her friend needed a proper distraction.

          “Why don’t we go for the city for a stroll?” suggested Cordelia.

* * *

          Soon Cordelia and Sumia were walking in the streets of Ylisstol. The atmosphere was a stark contrast from the countryside, even more so than usual. In the short time that Cordelia had been at Sumia’s house, it seemed as though the whole city had come alive. Merchants set up shop on street corners and performers entertained growing crowds. Sumia seemed a bit overwhelmed by all of the festivities, but dashed around excitedly, pulling Cordelia along with her.

          “I only ever visit Ylisstol once a month now,” explained Sumia. “But every time I visit, there are always new things to see!”

          They passed through many packed streets, entranced by the activity. Upon reaching one corner, Sumia let out a high-pitched noise of excitement.

          “The travelling bookstore is back!” she announced, pointing at the nearby storefront. Cordelia was yanked by Sumia so forcefully that she half-expected her arm to be pulled from its socket. A small bell rang as they entered the store. Sumia’s face visibly brightened as she examined the overflowing bookshelves that lined the walls. Within no time Sumia began scouring the shelves for different titles. All the while she talked about her favorite new stories and enlisted Cordelia’s aid in her searches. Cordelia didn’t quite understand everything Sumia said, but she was glad to listen.

          Sumia left the shop with an armful of books stacked higher than she could see. She took a few tentative steps, attempting to balance the precariously positioned stack before Cordelia suggested that they carry the books in a sack. Sumia gratefully agreed.

          The pair began exploring the sights once more. Eventually, they stopped at a merchant’s stall that sold fresh fruit treats.

          “Are you both enjoying the day so far?” asked the merchant amiably. “We hope this will be the first festival of many in the years to come.”

          “Actually,” began Cordelia. “I’m not sure I know what everyone is celebrating.”

          “Oh, have you not heard?” the merchant replied. “The citizens of Ylisstol have been planning for months – today marks the day that the Exalt officially returned! How could the city not celebrate peace after two wars?”

          Cordelia wasn’t about to reveal her own part in those events, nodding and smiling instead. They paid the merchant for their treats and continued their stroll through the streets…and that’s when Cordelia had a realization.

          Suddenly, all of the festivities made sense. Ever since the Shepherds had returned to settle back down in Ylisse, she hadn’t been keeping track of the passing time, but that day must have been the day of their return one year ago. The day Chrom led them triumphantly marching into the capitol…without Rogue.

          Naga had told them that if their bonds were strong enough, Rogue might return. She gave no specifics about how or when it might happen, but to have an entire year pass without so much as a sign…

          Cordelia glanced over at Sumia, now painfully aware of how she must be feeling. Each of the Shepherds had settled into their own lives, but an important part of Sumia’s life was missing. And all she had for comfort was the hope of a divine miracle.

          Sumia noticed Cordelia looking at her and smiled. Knowing what she now knew, Cordelia was almost shocked. Sumia would never give herself enough credit for her own strength, and even Cordelia could imagine how difficult living alone and waiting must be. Cordelia knew she couldn’t have chosen a more important day to visit her friend.

          Cordelia turned to look at the street again and spotted a particularly colorful tent that stood out from the other merchant stalls. A simple wooden sign hanging from the canvas read “Fortune Teller.”

          “Here, Sumia!” said Cordelia. “Let’s stop here.”

          Sumia looked at where Cordelia was pointing.

          “But you don’t believe in fortunes…” she replied, perplexed.

          Cordelia laughed. “Maybe this might change my mind.”

          Then it was Cordelia’s turn to pull Sumia. Though confused, Sumia allowed herself to be led along. The flaps of the tent gave a great _whoosh_ and closed behind them as they entered, almost cutting off the sound of the street outside. The only light in the tent was produced by tiny candles placed around the interior. A small pot filled with coins sat next to the entrance. There was no furniture of any kind, though an old woman sat at the center of an intricately woven carpet. When she heard Sumia and Cordelia enter, she raised her heard to look at them.

          “My, my!” the old woman said, looking away as if speaking to someone that no one else could see. “It appears that I have guests!”

          “Come, come!” She beckoned Cordelia and Sumia towards her. “Now, which of you dears would like to hear your fortune?”

          Her eyes drifted between Cordelia and Sumia before Sumia took a hesitant step forward.

          “…I don’t suppose you use flowers?” she asked meekly.

          “Oh, I don’t need anything to help me find your fortune, child,” the old woman replied. “I can tell just by looking at you.”

          The old woman patted the carpet in front of her, inviting Sumia to sit, which she did.

          “Now, hold out your hands,” the old woman instructed. Sumia, still nervous, held out her hands a little. The old woman took them in her own and closed her eyes. A few seconds passed. Everything was completely silent. Cordelia couldn’t even hear muffled noise from the outside.

          Eventually, the old woman frowned. “Oh, your heart is heavy, child,” she said. “You’ve lost someone dear to you.”

          Sumia gasped and tensed a bit. Cordelia’s eyes widened. How could this fortune teller know that?

          “Oh yes,” said the old woman, as if in answer. “It’s been a long time, but still feels as though it were yesterday…but that is all I can see.”

          The old woman let go of Sumia’s hands gently, but still didn’t open her eyes. Sumia stood up.

          “Th-thank you…” said Sumia uncertainly.

          “Oh, but wait,” said the old woman. “That’s only part of your fortune. What good would I be if all I could do was tell you what you already know?”

          She opened her eyes, staring up at Sumia. Sumia could only look back, transfixed.

          “Don’t give up hope,” said the old woman finally.

          Sumia could only nod.

          “Thank you very much,” Cordelia said.

          “Oh, you’re very welcome, dears,” the old woman replied. “Don’t forget, now!”

          Cordelia placed a few coins in the pot as they exited the tent. When they melted into the busy street again she gave a sigh of relief. “I just might believe in fortunes now…”

          Sumia nodded. “That certainly wasn’t what I’m used to…” she said. Then she smiled. “But in that case, I’ll be right back.”

          Sumia took off at a speed that Cordelia wouldn’t have guessed was possible from a person already carrying a large sack of books. A minute later, Sumia returned with a basket full of daisies and offered it to Cordelia.

          “Pick one!” she said.

          Cordelia took a daisy, and Sumia showed her how to properly pluck the petals.

          “There!” Sumia exclaimed. “Now I know you’ll be the finest pegasus knight captain in history.”

          Cordelia smiled. Even though she wasn’t entirely sold on the validity of flower fortunes, this particular one gave her comfort. She smiled. “Thank you, Sumia.”

* * *

The pair returned to Sumia’s house for the remainder of the day. As the sun began to sink beyond the horizon, Cordelia felt that she should take her leave.

          “I’m glad I came to visit today,” she said. “I had a wonderful time.”

          She glanced over at Sumia. “I hope you did as well.”

          Sumia beamed. “Of course! The day was that much better because you were here! I only hope I wasn’t that bad of a hostess…”

          Sumia looked up at her friend. “Thanks for being here for me.”

          That simple statement spoke volumes for Cordelia. Even though Sumia could be too hard on herself, she could always overcome the most difficult of situations, but sometimes needed just a bit of help. And sometimes even Cordelia, whom everyone thought to be perfect, could use the comfort of a friend. She put a hand on Sumia’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here for me as well.”

          A minute later, Cordelia walked back to Ylisstol, feeling significantly better than she had felt that morning. Meanwhile, Sumia decided to curl up in her armchair. Though a stack of new books was piled next to her, she selected a book from her shelf that night. It was a well-loved book, its cover worn and pages slightly yellowed. Inscribed on the title page were the words _Wyvern Wars: Terror at High Noon_. Her hand hesitated when she noticed the second bookmark separated from her own by a few pages. She flipped to her bookmark, taking care to make sure the other stayed in its proper place. Sumia lit a candle, bathing the pages in a flickering light, ready to immerse herself in a favorite story once more. With a sigh, she began to read.


	6. Sheltered Shadow

_“Many an unfortunate child found joy in the small orphanage Libra and his wife built after the war. The younger tykes were very fond of Tharja—who feigned annoyance, but secretly enjoyed the attention…”_

* * *

 

For the children of the orphanage, the day didn’t truly start until all had gathered around the long kitchen tables for breakfast. Everyone, from the happiest youngsters to the quieter children, found that they couldn’t help but smile as each was given a bowl of porridge. The piping hot meal warmed their bodies before any had taken a bite.

As always, Libra and Tharja joined the children as they ate. After a short prayer of thanksgiving, a morning ritual led by Libra, everyone began eating their porridge with gusto. Libra’s comforting smile was contagious, and many of the older children, especially those that were just a bit uncomfortable around Tharja, chose to sit near him and eat. Meanwhile, Tharja sat with her head bent over her bowl, eating each spoonful methodically. The younger children, unaffected by her grim façade, gathered around her, giggling and shouting “Miss Tharja!” Tharja would always scoff and pretend to be heavily engrossed in her meal…but eventually she would give in and show the children a small magic display, at which they would all laugh gleefully.

After eating, the children took their scraped-clean bowls and stacked them neatly on the counter before going outside to play. Libra and Tharja watched as they scampered giddily outside.

“It’s wonderful to see all of them so happy,” remarked Libra. “I can almost feel the darkness of the world fading away.”

“I guess you could see it that way,” replied Tharja. Her lips curled into a sinister smirk. “But what would the world be without darkness?”

She looked off into the distance for a moment. “We certainly make an odd couple, don’t we?”

Libra gave her a warm smile. “We certainly do. But I’m so very grateful, and I know the children are too.”

Tharja blushed and stared at the floor in embarrassment. As much as she resisted exposing her feelings, she couldn’t help but show them in front of her husband. “Hmph. You know I’ll follow you anywhere, even if it means bringing joy to children.”

This only made Libra smile wider. “Well, now that all of the young ones are occupied, we can make this place tidy again.”

With that proclamation, he disappeared to the kitchen, returning moments later with a bucket of soapy water. Turning around so he wouldn’t notice, Tharja rolled her eyes. When she and Libra had first opened the orphanage, they had to do everything themselves. Eventually, they were able to hire several maids to help with the chores. Tharja had gleefully pounced on the prospect of having an orphanage staff, but was less enthused when she learned that they would be helping with household tasks instead of serving as test subjects. Eventually, Libra was able to break Tharja of habitually referring to the maids as “underlings.”

“Hmm, that’s odd.”

Libra’s voice snapped Tharja out of her thoughts. She looked over to the counter, where he had stopped washing dishes. “One of the children neglected breakfast.”

It was true. Amongst the almost spotless bowls, even the ones that Libra had yet to scrub, there was one that seemed practically untouched. Tharja held a hand over it. The porridge inside was still warm. She turned to glance out the window for a moment. “Is someone missing?”

Libra’s face grew more concerned. Tharja had a tendency to suggest the worst case scenario first upon encountering a problem. Most of the time, the answer was far less dire than she would suggest, but it did help rule out possibilities.

“No,” he said finally. “I made sure that everyone was at the tables this morning.”

Tharja’s gaze darkened again. The more she stared at the bowl of porridge, the more she felt a nagging sense that something wasn’t quite right, but she couldn’t put a finger on what was causing the feeling. She glanced outside. All of the children looked as though they were having fun. Nothing seemed amiss, at least on the surface.

“I’ll be taking my leave now,” Tharja muttered. She spun around, heading for the hallway. “You know where to find me.”

Watching his wife walk away, Libra uttered a small sigh. Indeed, he did know where he would find her. Some things would never change.

* * *

There was one particular room in the orphanage that was very different from the others. While Libra had been very successful in making the rest of the orphanage feel cozy and welcoming, Tharja’s personal study exuded a contrary atmosphere. After many nights of reportedly hearing disturbing noises coming from the room, the orphanage staff refused to set foot within a stone’s throw of the door. Tharja couldn’t have cared less. After all, the more privacy she had, the better she was able to concentrate.

The study was perpetually dim, even during the day, as there were no windows. Tiny green flames flickering in glass containers provided the room’s small amount of light. Various books littered the study, and fiendish utensils cast menacing shadows on the wall. Part of this display was intentional. Tharja was quite aware that everyone avoided the study, and that served her purposes nicely, but she didn’t particularly care what the others thought (with the exception of Libra, who was the only other person at the orphanage who could walk into the room as though it were just like any other).

Oftentimes she would become so engrossed in her experiments that she would work long into the night, barely moving as she meticulously organized her materials. That evening proved to be one of those times. Tharja stood over her cauldron, focused intently on making sure that just enough powder was added to the bubbling mixture.

Even so, Tharja’s intent concentration did nothing to impede her awareness, and she knew immediately that a person was standing in the threshold of the door. She turned her head around, eyes barely peeking from under her brow, to see who it was.

Interestingly enough, it was not Libra at the door. Instead, a small boy was peeking his head around the door frame. Tharja recognized the boy. He had appeared on the orphanage’s doorstep a mere week before. She had seen him at meals and in the hallways, but he wasn’t one of the children that would often approach her. Wide-eyed, he extended his foot as if to take a step further into the study, but withdrew it quickly.

“M-m-m-miss Th-Tharja?” the boy whimpered. He was obviously terrified. His eyes darted this way and that, as if trying to take in a waking nightmare. Tharja raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t think of the last time that one of the children had come to find her in her study.

“You can come in,” said Tharja nonchalantly. “I don’t bite.”

The boy forced himself to take a few more shaky steps into the room, quickly glancing behind him. Tharja stepped away from her cauldron, casting a shadow over the boy’s face.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“E-E-Elias,” he stammered.  Elias couldn’t bring himself to look up, staring at Tharja’s knees instead. Then, appearing to muster confidence, he raised his head, not quite making eye contact.

A few awkward seconds passed. Abruptly, Tharja walked to one of the shelves and shuffled through several bottles until she came across a small vial. She held it up to the light for a moment to inspect its contents, then took out the cork offered the mysterious liquid to Elias.

“Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

Hesitantly, Elias accepted the vial and raised it to his lips, tilting it ever so slightly so that he only swallowed a few drops at a time. Tharja watched with interest. The potion was a new brew of hers, but she had made sure that it was safe for consumption (slipping it into the drink of one of the maids had confirmed this).

Gradually, Elias stopped shaking, and the wild look left his eyes.

“Hm,” Tharja observed, bending down so that she was at eye level with Elias. “That seems to have worked. Now…”

She looked him straight in his still fearful eyes. “Why would you have come here?”

Elias still couldn’t meet Tharja’s gaze for more than a split second. In what might have been the smallest voice she had ever heard, he asked, “C-can you help me?”

Tharja’s brow furrowed. Help? That was a strange request indeed. Libra made sure that all the children knew where to find him, and he was certainly more suitable choice for any kind of assistance that Tharja could imagine. Yet, Tharja had the same strange feeling that she had experienced in the morning, a feeling that told her that Elias was the owner of the untouched porridge. Something was seriously wrong.

Elias glanced quickly behind him and out the door of the study. Even under the effects of Tharja’s calming draught, he was still stammering.

“Th-there’s something under my bed.”

It was obvious that Elias was terrified of simply being in study, and even in Tharja’s mere presence. But he had forced himself to seek her out anyway. What could inspire that level of fear? Tharja’s gaze darkened. _It could be nothing_ , she told herself. _But then again…_

Despite the circumstances, Tharja couldn’t her lip from curling into a mischievous smirk that she attempted to mask. If there was indeed something sinister afoot, she would be very intrigued. Tharja put a hand on Elias’ shoulder. “Why don’t I go see for myself?”

* * *

Elias led Tharja through the empty halls of the orphanage, staying close to the candlelit lamps on the walls. Eventually, they reached the large rooms that housed the children’s bunks. Elias came to a stop several feet from the door, something that couldn’t escape Tharja’s notice. Taking the lead, she turned the knob, ignoring the high-pitched creak that cut through the silence. Standing in the threshold, Tharja let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Elias eventually moved behind her and peeked around the door frame.

It was a spacious room. Children’s bunks were evenly spaced from wall to wall. However, the majority of them were empty. Most of the children slept in an identical room across the hall, but there were still several young ones resting soundly near the walls. Tharja narrowed her eyes and scanned the room for anything that looked out of place, even though she suspected that what she was looking for would not be so easily visible.

Still unwilling to move any closer, Elias pointed into the room. Tharja followed his finger until her eyes came to rest on a bed in the center of the room. It looked indistinguishable from the other beds. Tharja started to move closer. Elias looked back and forth, trying to choose between staying close to the door or close to Tharja, but moved forward with her, clutching a scrap of her robes.

Several feet away from the bed, Tharja stopped. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at all. The bed remained silent and motionless. The only audible sound was Elias’ heaving breathing. Perhaps it was just the invention of a child’s imagination.

…But then, Elias gave a mortified whimper, and dashed all such speculations.

The space under the bed was unnaturally dark. Black as pitch, it acted independently of the shadows cast by the glow of the moonlight from outside. A tarlike shadow spread outward from its focal point, seeping ever closer.

Tharja had encountered countless constructs of dark magic before, but something about this particular entity made her take a step back. Elias grabbed even tighter onto her robes. A sinister hiss emanated from around them, and Tharja watched as the shadow seeped under their feet. It started to rise, surrounding them. Tharja’s curiosity had evaporated. In another situation, she might have been fascinated, or even excited. But strangely, all she felt in that moment was foreboding. She couldn’t be swayed by the shadow…not when she felt the tug of a small hand.

In that moment, the countercurse to banish the entity was clear in Tharja’s mind. She closed her eyes, feeling a strange ethereal wind whirl around them as she spoke ancient words. Elias’ eyes remained wide open, and he watched as purple flames pulsed outward from Tharja’s body, pushing against the shadow.

The last word rolled from Tharja’s tongue. Suddenly the shadow vanished.

Tharja opened her eyes. “It’s gone now,” she uttered softly.

Once again, there was no sound save Elias’ breathing, but gradually it slowed to normal. It took just a little longer for Elias to release his grip on Tharja’s robes.

“It’s really gone?” he asked, looking up at Tharja, this time with awe instead of agitation.

Tharja knelt down and looked him in the eye. This time Elias’ eyes held no fear.

“It won’t be coming back,” she replied. “I promise.”

* * *

Each and every bowl of porridge was eaten the following morning.

Tharja sat at her regular place at the table, eating methodically as usual. Many of the children still surrounded Libra, just as the younger tykes flocked toward Tharja. She stared into the depths of her bowl, pretending that she didn’t notice anyone…until someone new sat across from her. She looked up to see Elias, who gave her a meek smile. Slightly thrown off guard, she looked around the kitchen. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she seemed to notice more children smiling and laughing than usual. And, of course, the one with the warmest smile was Libra.

Tharja looked back at Elias, and couldn’t help but give a smile of her own.


End file.
